Beautiful

A while back, my husband and I went to the city with our kids, and it wasn’t a disaster.  Back then, the kids weren’t into fighting.  They were cherubims who shared and hugged and spread pixie dust everywhere they walked.  Right?  Whatever they were, they were easier to take to the city then than they are now.

On that particular day, my husband took us out to eat at The Olive Garden.  He used to work at an Olive Garden when he was growing up and he’s always been sort of attached to their Chicken con Broccoli (which I’m pretty sure isn’t even on the menu anymore but they make it if you ask for it).  As always, he ordered Chicken con Broccoli and I ordered soup, salad, and breadsticks (by far and away my favorite thing to get).  Our food came, and I leaned over to help the kids eat their maca-ernie (that’s what it’s called at our house) and cheese.  As I finished, I looked up to find my husband looking at me.

“You,” he said, as he speared a piece of chicken with his fork and then pointed it at me, “are a beautiful woman.”

I don’t mean to throw him under the bus by saying this, BUT: it had been so long since I’d heard that!  I was taken completely off guard and it shocked me.  I didn’t know what to do, and instead of doing something rational like THANKING him, I just…

cried.

Right into my minestrone.

How very feminine of me, I know.  Needless to say, after that he was a little more prone to voicing his positive thoughts about the way I looked.

A few days ago, he told me that I was beautiful and I blushed -a huge step up from blubbering over bread sticks.  I asked him (after thanking him) if he remembered the day I cried in The Olive Garden.  He said that he did, and I went on to tell him that above anything else, a woman just wants to hear that she’s beautiful.

It’s nice to hear that dinner was good, that the house looks nice, that I’m funny or nice or cute.  But to be told that I’m beautiful?  It means the world to me.

“It means the world to any girl to hear that she’s beautiful,” I told him as we drove down the road to our (fated) trip to the city, “Watch… say it to your daughter.”

My husband adjusted the rear view mirror so he could see her better.

“Lacy,” he said, catching her eyes, “You’re a beautiful girl.”  Instantly, a smile spread across her face and she tucked her head down.  She looked out the window because she was embarrassed.  Later on that day, we heard her singing from her car seat.

“Daddy says I’m byoot-i-ful… Daddy says I’m byoot-i-ful…”

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(I made us some aprons from the same fabric and she’s beside herself with joy. When we wear them, she holds the matching fabrics up next to each other.)

Daddy speaks the truth.

Comments

  1. That made me cry. Thank you.

  2. This made me cry as well. Even though my boyfriend says “Hi, beautiful” He hasn’t quite caught me off guard like that.

    I needed this.
    Thank you.

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